Chapter 8
August 21, 1983
Brahms, Idaho
Brahms Police Department
9:23 PM
At this point in his story, Harry stopped abruptly and, with a small choked gasp, leaned forward and held his head in his hands. O'Grady reached out to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He could feel his stress, and he felt sorry for him. He was also beginning to believe that, somehow, he was telling the truth, or something close to it. His story was too structured, too well thought out, and just too fucking bizarre for him to have just come up with it on his own. Either that, or he was the craziest son-of-a-bitch O'Grady ever had encountered. He decided that it would be best to interrupt Harry's tale at this point, at least for a little while. He called for Jergens, and told him to take Harry back to his cell.
He sat in the interrogation room alone for several minutes after Jergens had led Harry somnambulistically from the room. Whether what had really happened yesterday in Silent Hill was as horrifying and outlandish as Harry said or not, something definitely had happened.
Since he had nothing else better to do, he decided that he would take a little trip to Silent Hill himself and see if he could uncover any evidence that what Harry said had happened did, in fact, happen.
He told the officer at the reception desk that he was calling it a night, and walked out of the police station to his gray Mazda. As he was searching in his pockets for his keys, he glanced at the window of the driver's side door and nearly screamed.
Reflected in the window, standing right behind him, grinning a bloody-toothed smile, was Cybil Bennett. He spun around, dropping his keys, to find himself looking at empty space. He glanced over his shoulder back to the window, but the image of Cybil was nowhere to be seen.
Slowly, O'Grady lowered himself to a crouch, swiped his keys up off the ground, quickly unlocked his car and got in. He locked the doors, and turned in his seat, scanning the entire parking lot. There was no one to be seen.
There was no one to be seen.
O'Grady frowned. It was only 9 o'clock and there was no one in sight in the parking lot or on the street. Even on a Sunday night like this there were always at least a few people out and about.
This somehow seemed to familiar....
Hesitantly, he switched on the radio. A piercing shriek filled the car. O'Grady unlocked the doors and jumped out, drawing his gun. He made his way quickly to the police station doors and pushed them open.
The reception desk was deserted, and he could hear none of the usual hum of chattering officers. He could only hear the shrieking radio from his car. Filled with a crushing dread, he made his way to the holding cells. Harry's cell door stood open, and O'Grady was confused to see a comfortable office chair in the middle of the cell, its back facing him.
"Harry?"
The chair spun around. Harry was not in the chair. A young nurse in her mid-twenties sat in the chair, thin trails of blood leading from her eyes down her cheeks. She reached up a red-nailed hand and pushed a few strands of her dirty blonde hair out of her eyes. She smiled at him, and O'Grady saw that she had blood on her teeth, too.
Aiming his gun squarely at her forehead, he asked, "Who are you? What do you want?"
The smile disappeared. Her eyes rolled back in her head. She opened her mouth, and a deep, slurred male voice filled the cell. "George O'Grady, tred lightly and carefully for you do not know the business you are getting yourself into. I would suggest you think very carefully about how involved you wish to become in things not of a natural kind."
After she was finished speaking, the nurse moaned, rolled her head back onto the headrest of the chair, and lay still. O'Grady inched his way into the cell. He lowered his gun and reached out to touch her.
With a scream, the nurse's face erupted in a geyser of blood, spraying O'Grady and the cell. He yelled and fell backwards as the nurse suddenly stood up and, pulling a scalpel out of her nurse's apron, lunged at O'Grady.
O'Grady screamed and shut his eyes, but nothing happened. Opening them again, he found himself sitting in his car outside the police station. He could see the receptionist at his desk inside and a woman with a small child walking past the station on the sidewalk.
Taking a deep breath, O'Grady fought to get his heart beating normally again. What the hell was that?
He turned the keys in the ignition, shifted into drive, and drove slowly out of the parking lot. The receptionist smiled and waved at O'Grady as he drove past the doors. O'Grady waved feebly back, then turned onto the street and headed for Highway 37.
August 21, 1983
Brahms, Idaho
Brahms Police Department
9:34 PM
Harry looked up as a shadow fell over him.
"It won't be long now. You may have her back soon." Cybil said.
Harry shut his eyes.